


The Gap Month

by bate



Category: Glee
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-27
Updated: 2013-06-27
Packaged: 2017-12-16 06:25:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/858885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bate/pseuds/bate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gap wasn’t fashion faux pas, but Kurt didn’t really care for it either. It was a retail store of simple chic that existed somewhere between Starbucks and Claire’s and certainly seemed like the saner of the three places to pursue employment... or so he thought. He spends his days toiling, becoming a coffee dealer, and soon finds himself facing a month of unexpected situations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gap Month

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is my first fanfiction and I don't have a beta either so this is as new and rough as it gets, I suppose! :) I hope you enjoy this little story any ways! Sorry if there are fashion/retail work-related errors, I'm clueless. 
> 
> (I have no sense of episode timing, so this may as well be AU... also, super-majorly-minor Sebofsky!)

           Gap wasn’t fashion faux pas, but Kurt didn’t really care for it either. It was a retail store of simple chic that existed somewhere between Starbucks and Claire’s and certainly seemed like the saner of the three places to pursue employment.

           Kurt had fair reasoning on the matter, and he was reminded why all of his reasons were good almost every day. It was all a matter of control.

           It became apparent early on in his job hunting that even five minutes inside Starbucks would result in the permeating of his finest winter cardigan collection with the worldly aromas of coffee. One day he had come home with an employment application tucked under one arm, and it took all of his might not to let out an undignified squeal when Finn jumped out of nowhere and demanded to know where the coffee was.

           Kurt managed to respond with only a thinly-restrained, high voice. “What coffee? You don’t even drink coffee!”

           Finn’s face fell in a way that was eerily close to how he looked when he was trying to stop an erection. Kurt didn’t want to rehash how he knew such things. “Rachel’s in love with coffee and she doesn’t know I'm not. She might not drive me to school if she knew I'm not. But Kurt, it _smells_.”

           Kurt sniffed at his shoulder, nose wrinkling as he nodded. “It does, unfortunately.”

           Since then Finn assumed Kurt worked at Starbucks, because he had also seen the form in Kurt’s hands. Kurt didn’t have the heart to correct him after he got employed at Gap, so he just bought Finn a small drip every other day after work.

           Kurt also had the sense not to go anywhere near Claire’s because if Rachel ever found out, all of Kurt’s hard work to burn her fuzzy animal sweaters and patterned knee-high socks would go to waste as soon as she followed him to work. Rachel’s immediate regression of style into trying on tacky earrings was not something Kurt wanted to deal with during his senior year of high school.

           So when Kurt stopped looking out of the corners of his eyes and actually faced forwards, he was looking into a store where clothes were folded neatly and _The Hot 100_ played quietly in the background as decent-looking men and women helped customers buy clothes.  

           In preparation for his interview, Kurt styled his hair up as usual but chose not to end it in a coif because Carole had told him it made him look older. Then he had straightened his clothes (a recent acquisition, being a [Gap grandpa sweater](http://www3.assets-gap.com/webcontent/0006/210/566/cn6210566.jpg) in navy and gray stripes, along with a pair of dark wash jeans) and fairly easily walked into an opening as a sales assistant.

           Mercedes visited Kurt every so often to coo over some of the sweaters, but mostly to dig at Kurt for how much Gap was starting to shack up in his closet. Kurt learned to breathe a little easier after humming _it’s not really designer but it's not ugly either_  at the start of every shift. Soon, he was even surprised by the appearance of Sam at his workplace (albeit at Mercedes’ side). He said Kurt looked like an agent with his black wire and earpiece. Kurt had made a face and went back to work. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

           Kurt had the rare fortune (blink and you’d miss it) to grab the job just before the Christmas season rush. He worked two four-hour shifts after school on the weekdays and a full eight-hour shift on the weekend, but a little extra during the winter break.

           During that time of extended exposure, Kurt became more intimate with the jeans in Gap than he ever had with his own, and this horrified him. His clothes were wasting away from neglect before his very eyes. He hadn’t touched his closet with a lint roller in weeks, but he didn’t have the time to keep up between school, work, and refusing to lose sleep.

           His only relief came in ending each shift by going to Starbucks and buying a grande nonfat mocha to calm his tongue and nerves, and the white-lie small drip for Finn. Even there, though, a bump in his routine came around mid-January. Finn stopped him by the door just before he was leaving for his Saturday shift, looking more awkward than he usually did.

           “Um, hey Kurt.”

           “Hi.” Kurt brushed invisible dust from the legs of his white jeans as he glanced up at his step-brother.  

           “Uh, I wanted to tell you something important.”

           “Go ahead.” Kurt felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket and reached for it as he motioned for him to continue.  

           His step-brother shifted from foot to foot. “I’m ready.”

           Confused, Kurt paused in checking his phone. “What?”

           “I’m ready for more coffee!”

           One of Kurt’s eyebrows arched. “Oh. Are you sure?”

           Finn nodded quickly. “I finished my cup three times in a row, dude!”

           “So you want… a medium drip now?”

           “Is that a medium coffee? That tastes like the one you’ve been getting for me?”

           “Yes, Finn.”

           “Then yeah!”

           “Alright. Will do.” Kurt smiled and left for work, finally looking to his phone. It was a text from Mercedes. 

 **MERCEDES:** Got any new stock at the store?

           Kurt snorted at the thought of true variety. Gap was mostly bright colors and stripes… so many stripes. 

 **KURT:** Why don’t you come and see for yourself? 

 

           He got a reply just as he was pulling into the back parking lot of the mall.   

 **MERCEDES:** Boo!

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

            Kurt tended to work the women’s side of the floor more than the men’s. Lima men weren’t interested in clothes that actually fit and he wasn’t looking to be harassed, so he told himself that the giggles he heard for helping ladies out with their jeans was far less annoying than the giggling of little girls in Claire’s.

            When Mercedes showed up, Kurt was folding some camisoles after spending half an hour with a girl who wanted to try one on of each color, getting him to bring them to her in the fitting room separately and during various states of undress. Sam came too, and waved at Kurt before heading for the display of denim jackets that gave Kurt a headache every time he walked by. He could _smell_ the South on them.  

            “He _llo_ there.” Mercedes waggled her eyebrows at his outfit. Kurt tried not to turn pink with annoyance because okay, so maybe he had put a _little_ effort into his Gap-inspired attire today, and so what if he was wearing one of their dark (albeit striped) henleys? At least the cardigan and pants were his. “Sell anything today?”

            Kurt shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t work at the counter, you know that.”

            “Still not looking that way, huh?”

            Kurt nodded firmly. “I don’t want them thinking my nervous glances are wistful looks yearning to be involved in the frustrating world of cashiering.”  
            “You’re boring.” Mercedes lifted up a camisole Kurt had just folded, and he sighed. “Want to head to the movies tonight?”

            Kurt normally would have said no because his weekend shifts left him thoroughly tired, but he figured Finn’s next step into the coffee realm deserved celebration, even if he wasn’t in on it. “Sure, but we aren’t watching anything Sam wants to watch. Or anything you and Sam want to watch.”

            Mercedes pouted. “Like I said, you’re boring.”

            “I’m just too fabulous for you.” Kurt shrugged, but his words fell flat when he ducked his head and try not to turn pink as Sam’s fearful voice filled up the store. A voice in his earpiece was telling him to deal with it, Ashley from the register. The blonde boy had managed to squeeze into a stiff denim jacket that turned his fingertips blue. 

            “ _Kurt_ , help me, the denim won’t come _off_!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

            Kurt arranged to meet Sam and Mercedes towards dusk so he would have time for coffee and coming up with a movie night outfit. As soon as his shift was over he grabbed his things from the backroom and made his way to Starbucks.

            There wasn’t much of a line and Kurt found himself in a very anticlimactic position to order very quickly. Kurt was fairly familiar with the baristas at the Starbucks, and he thought how that today’s barista, Jeff, had no idea how big of a moment this was in Kurt’s daily routine. This worried him a lot about how glamorous he perceived his life to be, which was, apparently, too much.

            “One grande nonfat mocha and a s— medium drip, please.” He stumbled over his words as he fished for bills in his pocket.

            “ _Yes!_ Coming right up!” Jeff was grinning wildly as he flicked blonde hair out of his eyes. His enthusiasm was usually nothing new, though not to this extent. As Jeff handed him his change, he crowed loudly at someone over Kurt’s shoulder. Kurt looked back to see a huddle of well-dressed boys waiting in line and grinning back.

            Kurt moved out of the way and stared at his hands until Jeff came to him. _KURT_ was scrawled on the sleeve of one cup. The other was usually blank, but this time it said… _CUTE LITTLE HOBBIT_. What?   

            When he looked up, he was startled to see Jeff was still there. “Um,” he held up what should be Finn’s cup, “I think you gave me the wrong order?”

            Jeff’s smile fell a little. “Oh, uh, it’s a drip, but you didn’t buy a small so…?”

            Kurt nodded. “My step-brother wanted a size upgrade.”

            Jeff’s eyes were wide and his cheeks red. “Oh. Um. Let me get you a new sleeve, then?”

            Kurt shook his head with a smile. “Well if the order’s right it doesn’t matter, but thanks… you won’t need the sleeve for the, uh, hobbit’s order, will you?”

            Jeff shook his head, so Kurt went home to watch Finn take over an hour to choke down the coffee while he sat at the foot of Kurt’s bed as Kurt planned his outfit for the night.

            When Finn was finished, he looked green. “That’s a lot more than I thought it would be.”

            Kurt shrugged sympathetically as he compared bowties in the mirror. “You’re going to stick with this size, though.” After all, routine was all Kurt had right now.

 

* * *

 

            Despite Kurt’s stipulations, Mercedes and Sam dragged him into a romantic comedy. Kurt never would have imagined himself in such a compromised and pathetic third-wheel position if Sam hadn’t sat between him and Mercedes. Worse, before the movie started he reached out of his seat to give Kurt a hug, spilling popcorn onto both of their laps and hugging the fight right out of him.

            By the time Sam was done whispering a thank you in his ear, Kurt was pale and already looking down to see if popcorn butter had stained his clothes. His ears burned, though. Hugs pretty much only came from his dad, and Sam smelled and felt like a marshmallow but he was _not_ going down the path of buried attraction to the boy. Kurt had to remind himself that he had more important things to worry about, like fostering a caffeine addiction in Finn.

            So Kurt sat through the movie and kind of secretly enjoyed himself a fair amount, except for when Sam felt bad about making Mercedes giggle so loudly during their whispered conversations that he latched on to Kurt’s hand and tried to talk about glee club.

            “We’re going to have a Mellencamp week every year in honor of you.” Sam said earnestly. “But we don’t want to wait until next year so we’re going to have one sometime soon.”

            Kurt covered his face with his free hand. “Please don’t.”

            “But Santana says she wants to sing _Get A Leg Up_ with you!”

            “What?”

            “You know, man,” Sam started to sing a little too loudly, “ _get a leg up, what’s the matter, are you shy, shy, shy_?”  

            Kurt looked around in a panic as he tried to shush the boy. _“No.”_

            “No, she sounded pretty honest, she was singing _hey lover boy you know I will_ , and –”

            “ _Sam_ , watch the damn movie!”  

            Mercedes turned to look at them sharply. “ _Kurt_ , stop yelling at my man!”

            “Why don’t you _all_ shut up?” Someone from behind them growled as another person chuckled, and Kurt ducked unintentionally into Sam’s shoulder, glad no one could see his face burning red. 

           

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

            Kurt had had his fair share of bullying. Since coming out, he had been pushed around, shoved into lockers, slushied, and thrown into the dumpsters. Those were the things he could and would talk about in a firm, sarcastic voice, but then there were the things that he couldn’t ever bring up without almost facing a panic attack. He had never spoken about those things, the kiss and the threat, so they lay buried and forgotten except for maybe today.

            It started out fine, because school wasn’t an issue during the winter. The cold made it hard for bullies to work the blood in their hands so it kept them from shoving Kurt around or throwing him into the dumpsters. This lack of attack caused Kurt to lose some of his guard, especially since he often also had glee clubbers steering him to class. Yet here he was, again facing an entirely new situation, bright and early on a Monday morning. And maybe the beginnings of a panic attack.

            He found himself cornered between a vending machine and a wall by a burly boy. He expected some slurs but instead got asked about Gap. Kurt didn’t really have room to snap at the boy at this point because he had no idea where they stood on the matter.

            “It’s all stripes, Dave.” Kurt sighed, fiddling with the binders pressed protectively to his chest.

            “But you fairies wear it all the time!”

            “I only wear Gap because I work there.” Kurt might as well have been trying to tell himself that. He tried not to look at his current dress shirt, but it was really soft and comfortable and who was he kidding, Gap was maybe just a little bit becoming a thing for him.

            Dave Karofsky tugged at a sleeve of his varsity jacket. “I can’t wear this every day, but I can’t wear clothes like you either. Gap has to be in between the two, right? You think?”

            “Like I said,” Kurt said evenly, “I wouldn’t say Gap is… Kurt-wear. Or Karofsky-wear.”

            “Then what would be? Me-wear? I can’t let my mom take me to Old Navy!” Dave shuddered and leaned in close, and Kurt tried not to flinch. Dave noticed, and immediately leaned away, looking upset. “C’mon Hummel, help me out here!”

            “Go buy something from Wal-Mart.” Kurt said stiffly just as the late bell for first period rang.

            Karofsky frowned but stepped back to let him leave. Kurt smoothed down his collar and scurried away.

           

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

  

            That day after school, Kurt was horrified to find himself starting his work shift with Karofsky entering the store to roam the men’s side with a lost look on his face. The jock sent Kurt long looks every few minutes, and it was completely unnerving. Kurt unintentionally scrambled past a customer asking for help with socks without responding just because Karofsky was closing in on him from behind the denim display.

            After fifteen minutes of the most underplayed low-speed chase in history, Karofsky caught Kurt in the midst of some sweaters and pushed a t-shirt in his face with an imploring look on his face.

            “Oh God, Dave, please, not anything that has their [_name_](http://www1.assets-gap.com/webcontent/0006/337/200/cn6337200.jpg) on it!”

            The boy fell back and looked at the shirt sadly. “It’s the only thing that’ll fit.”

            Kurt reached blindly with a hand towards the dressier shirts, shaking his head profusely. “Oh come on, no. Here, um, try these on.” He pushed some shirts in larger sizes into his arms and started backing away to the women’s side of the store.

            But there was no rest for the wicked, because that’s when Kurt heard the high-pitched, bubbly sing-song “ _Ku-urrrt_!” of Rachel Berry.

            He braced himself with a thin smile as he turned to face her. “Rachel!”

            “Interesting company you’re keeping at work these days.” Rachel whispered mock-gossip as she brushed the bangs out of her eyes.

            Kurt didn’t turn to see if Karofsky had headed for the fitting rooms. “It’s better than spending quality time with him at the dumpsters.”

            Rachel hummed cautiously as she eyed the women’s displays. “I wanted to drop in to remind you that you have to prepare some honorary Mellencamp for the near future.”

            Kurt glared at her over the neck of a blouse. “No.”

            “I understand your hesitance because Mellencamp is difficult for you— we all remember _Pink Houses_ very well— but not everyone can be as adaptable as I am. Perhaps you can do what I am for the week. I’m introducing Mellencamp to Broadway!” Rachel launched into a cringe-worthy, detailed explanation of her performance technique.

            “Excuse me.” Kurt looked up to see a short, dark-haired boy looking between them with a charming smile on his face. Rachel was talking too loudly to hear, with her eyes on the wall of jeans behind them.

            Kurt smiled as amiably as he could. “What can I do for you?”        

            The boy cocked his head to the side. “Could you help me pick out some socks?”

            “… and let’s be real, the faces you were making during _Pink Houses_ didn’t convey the proper emotion theatrical Mellencamp should bring to the song. You just looked like you were constipated, so—”

            “I’m busy so I can’t, but Rachel can help you!” Kurt said loudly, blushing with a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment. “Won’t you, Rachel?”

            The brunette spun around and looked appreciatively at the boy, whose smile was fading as he consciously reached up to touch his too-gelled hair. “Help with what?”

            “This customer needs socks.” Kurt grabbed her by the elbow and steered her towards the boy. “Go.”

            “But I don—”

            The boy looked chastised. “Oh really, no, that’s oka—”

            “I’m sorry, sir. Tell you what, Rachel, I’ll meet you at Claire’s after my Wednesday shift, okay? Now go!” He ushered them away just as Karofsky walked by, nodding in Kurt’s direction as he raised his arms to show him three or four bags.

            “Thanks, Hummel. I owe you one.”

            Kurt ignored the hum of voices from the piece of plastic in his ear, swallowing hard over the lump in his throat. “No problem, Dave.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

“I cannot _believe_ how you blew me off the other day! That boy didn’t even stick around. He just grabbed some of those adorable [sailboat-pattern socks](http://www1.assets-gap.com/webcontent/0006/311/387/cn6311387.jpg) and ran away!”

            Kurt wrinkled his nose at Rachel’s words as they entered Claire’s. “Those socks are horrible. And I hope he paid.”

            “You know what I mean.” Rachel smoothed down the pleats of her skirt as she went straight for the wall of nickel and plastic jewelry.

            “Maybe he doesn’t like theatrical Mellencamp theory either.” Kurt commented as he looked up at the roof corner mirrors to fix his hair. Rachel rolled her eyes.

            “He was kind of cute!” She picked up a pair of sunglasses and tried to put them on Kurt, who swatted her hands away and reached for a different pair.

            “You should ask him out then. Maybe Finn can tag along.” He pushed the aviators down his nose and peered into his own eyes, frowning at the open throat of his button-up, which was a little crooked.

            “Speaking of, did he tell you? He drinks a lot of coffee! I never knew that about him!” Rachel laughed and clapped her hands together. “Now that I know, we can go on cute coffee dates at the Lima Bean!”         

            Kurt turned and clasped his hands to his chest dramatically, saying, “That’s all he ever yearns for!” as he sidestepped her fists.

            “Don’t rain on my parade.” Rachel grumbled.

            Kurt groaned, but he could have sworn the rest of the store did too.

            

* * *

           

             Karofsky somehow weaseled his way onto the list of people walking Kurt to class, and Kurt wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or perturbed. He didn’t know if Karofsky was building up to some big show of brutishness or if he really was just a closeted gay kid trying to make a friend. His doubts were dashed in the next few minutes.

            “So I saw this movie, _13 Going On 30_? Do you know it?”

            Kurt scoffed as they headed towards his English class. “Yes.”

            “Anyways, Mark Ruffalo? The guy with curly hair?” Karofsky lowered his voice. “He’s cute.”

            Kurt nodded as sagely as he could. “Most would agree with you on that.”

            “My mom agreed with me.”

            Kurt heard the marvel in the boy’s voice, and he couldn’t help but glance in his direction and smile. Oh. “That’s good, Dave.”

            “I know.” They had stopped at the door of the classroom, and Dave looked down at his feet. “So I’ve been thinking. I just wanted to say… I’m sorry. What I did to you made me realize things. About myself, and about how to treat people. And I’m really sorry.”

            Kurt bit his lip, trying not to remember the incident. “I figured.”

            “I tried leaving you alone, but you didn’t look like you were getting any better, so… this. Um. Friends?” The jock held out a large, square hand, and Kurt tried to search for any sign of insincerity in the football player’s face but found now. So, Kurt raised his chin a little and took his hand, giving it a shake that may have been a little on the weak side. He was taking this in stride.

            “Thanks, Karofsky.”

            He looked thankful, and still sorry. “And I’m sorry about what happened at Gap, too.”

            “Assaulting me with cheap t-shirts?”

            Karofsky arched an eyebrow. “…no? I made you scare off that guy who was staring at you the whole time.”

            “There was a guy?” Kurt felt heat creep up into his face.

            “Oh yeah, when I was showing you the Gap shirt… I thought you noticed.”

            Kurt thought back to that moment and realized it must have been the customer he blew off, and he shrugged, making a mock-sour face that made Karofsky grin. “Hey, I’m not expecting fireworks until New York anyways.”

            “But until then…?”

            Kurt snorted. “Until then, we have Scandals.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

            One day after school in early February, Finn rushed to claim a seat next to Kurt in the music room, looking flushed and panicked.

            Kurt eyed him suspiciously. “What did you do?”

            Finn kept his voice at a whisper as glee clubbers trickled in. He started to speak just as Sam walked by, pointing and winking at them in greeting. “Rachel wants to go to the Lima Bean.”

            “So?” In hindsight, Kurt should have warned Finn about this, but his schedule kept him from making time to remember such things. “You drink coffee, you’re ready.”

            Finn shook his head. “She wanted to go today but I was able to back out. So we’re going tomorrow, but Kurt, I don’t _know_ anything about coffee!”  
            “What’s there to know? It has a taste and it comes in a cup and sometimes you can buy biscotti with it.”

            “What _is_ biscotti? How do you order it? I don’t know how to use that special coffee language, dude!”

            Kurt glared at Santana as she kicked up her Cheerio skirt while she sauntered by, winking at him and purring, “You, me, and Mellencamp, pretty boy.”

            “So what do you want me to do, give you a crash course tonight?”

            Finn shifted uneasily. “I told Rachel that you and I were doing something after school. That’s how I got out of the date. So, um, can I go to work with you?”  
            Kurt should have been annoyed that Finn used him as an excuse but he was more worried about having to tell Finn he didn’t work at Starbucks. The longer the lie lasted, the better though, right? “Ugh… sure. Alright.”

            “Attention all glee club members!”

            Both boys’ heads snapped up as Rachel skirted by the piano, waving a sheaf of paper. “Mellencamp is in the house!”

            “Get a leg up, Kurt!” Sam clapped enthusiastically.

            Mr. Schuester, who had just walked in, raised an eyebrow in question. Kurt refused to blush, he _refused_ , but he still felt himself get warm when he heard Finn whisper _thanks bro_ in his ear and squeeze his shoulder.

           

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

  

            Kurt had intended on taking Finn straight to Gap and confessing his ills, but as soon as they walked by GameStop, Finn decided he would meet up with Kurt at his work in an hour or so. Then he proceeded to leave Kurt alone in front of the store.

            Kurt didn’t question the turn of events, so he went to start his shift and got a good half hour of work in before was interrupted.  

            “Hey Kurt!”

            The boy fiddled with his earpiece and looked to see… the barista from Starbucks coming to meet him in the middle of the floor? “Jeff?”

            Jeff grinned, and Kurt found it disconcerting because Jeff wasn’t wearing his uniform or visor. Well, the Starbucks essentials. Instead, he was wearing charcoal pants and a navy blazer that Kurt wouldn’t even wear during theme week at school. It looked like some sort of prep school uniform.

“What’s up?”

            Jeff pointed at his clothes. “Think you could help me dress myself?”

            Kurt didn’t hide his distaste at the blazer being pointed out as he nodded. “Sure. What are you looking for?”

            The boy started leading Kurt dangerously close to the denim. “I dunno.”

            “Are you going for casual or… preppy?” Kurt rocked on the balls of his feet, getting just a little bit excited that someone who wasn’t a girl was asking for his help.

            Jeff chuckled. “A bit of both, maybe?”

            Kurt nodded, surreptitiously steering Jeff away from the denim. “I have some _great_ casual blazers over here.”

            “Well _someone’s_ a critic.” 

            “They’re pinstripe! Shut up.” Both of the boys laughed.

            That’s when Kurt heard his name being yelled from outside the store, and he groaned softly as Finn stumbled past the doors, did a double take, and walked into Gap looking utterly confused.

            “Are you on your break or something? There’s a big line at Starbucks dude, you need to get back!”

            Jeff turned and looked between the two with some alarm. Kurt sighed and picked up some empty hangers and glanced at Jeff. “Um, I’ll see you around?”

            Jeff nodded, eyeing Finn warily as he went to leave. “Yeah.”

            Kurt waved the hangers at Finn. “I’m sorry I never told you, Finn, but I don’t work at Starbucks.”

            Finn frowned. “Did they fire you? Please don’t tell me you told them you were too fabulous for their biscuits. Burt said that’s what would happen.”

            Kurt rolled his eyes. “The biscot—what? No! I mean, I never worked there. I thought about it, but like you said, it smells. I, um, I work here. At Gap.” He waved his hands at the store. Justin Bieber played quietly in the background, and Kurt pursed his lips in annoyance.

            After a while, Finn just nodded slowly. “So, uh, does that mean we aren’t going to get coffee?”

            Kurt smiled tentatively. “No, we’re still on for that. Just… hang around until my shift is over?”

            Finn nodded, returning the smile. “This makes more sense.”

            “What does?” 

            “That you work at Gap.”

            Kurt tried not to wince.

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

           Kurt didn’t really want Finn looming over him while he worked so he suggested that he go buy something for Rachel from Claire’s, and that’s when Ashley from the register walked on over.

           “Finally, I get you alone.” She was smiling, so Kurt relaxed a little. She practically managed the place, so he had to stay on his toes around her, but otherwise, she was nice. 

            “What can I do for you?” He replied, stopping his work.

            “I just wanted to tell you to ease up on all the visitors. Boss has been staring when he swings by.”

            Kurt shook his head. “Would you believe me if I said I never told anyone to come visit me? They just won’t leave me alone.”

            “It happens to cuties like you.” Ashley rolled her eyes. “Just don’t forget to work.”

            Kurt took mock offense, looking down his nose at her. “I do nothing else but slave away at your every whim.”

            Ashley curtsied in her skinny jeans. “Except for when I ask you to cover the register.”

            “Just keep pretending I don’t know math. Otherwise, I live only to work for you.”

           “Good! Keep it that way. And hey, flash your little white smile a bit more. When you do, you draw girls in like cats to catnip!”

            Kurt laughed at that. “Thanks, Ashley.”

            She snapped her fingers in response and said something into her microphone about everyone keeping their cameras ready because Kurt might actually smile with his teeth today.

 

* * *

  

            Finn had been right about the line. Even now it was ten people long, and Finn quickly grew impatient, leaning into Kurt and trying to rest his head on Kurt’s shoulder. It was definitely awkward considering how much Finn had to bend down to do so. Kurt tried to shrug him off, to no avail.

            “You need to pay attention.”

            “I know. Just… a medium coffee and a large fat mocha and biscuits. That’s all it is.”  
            Kurt patted his shoulder sympathetically. “Almost. But you need to sound like you’ve been ordering coffee for months, or Rachel will know you’re lying to her.”  
            “It’s not lying!” Finn protested, head shooting up from Kurt’s shoulder. “It’s just… not wanting to hurt her feelings. Or mine.”

            Kurt grinned. “You’re such a good boyfriend.”

            Finn bumped his shoulder with his arm. “Thanks.”

            When they got to the front of the line, Kurt ordered carefully and slowly, and Finn nodded after each part of the order, taking obvious mental notes. While they were collecting their drinks, Kurt saw Jeff out of the corner of his eyes and gave him a small, confused smile. Jeff only nodded from where he was sitting and went back to his conversation with the boys surrounding him. They were all dressed in the same uniforms.

            Kurt and Finn sat down at a table for two in the corner of the Starbucks and talked about everything _but_ glee club because after Mellencamp week fell through since Kurt refused to partake, if he had to hear about getting his legs up for Mellencamp one more time he was going to explode. Finn looked alarmed.

            “So what’s this thing you’ve got with Karofsky?”

            Kurt raised an eyebrow. “Friendship?”

            “You seem pretty close.”

            Kurt shook his head. “He is. He needs a friend. But I’m not, not too much. Too busy, you know, with my Starbucks-and-Gap double life.”

            “Good.” Finn made a face. “I don’t want you two dating, even if he is being nice now.”

            “Why?” Kurt asked curiously.

            Finn tried hard to sound serious, but Kurt had heard these words before. “Because you matter, and even if he knows that now, he didn’t know it before.” The sentiment was still there, though, and Kurt did what he didn’t do often— he reached out and touched Finn’s hand.

            “Thank you, Finn.”

            Finn smiled softly, looking towards the register. “Aw. Um, ready for round two?”

            Kurt shook his empty coffee cup and nodded. “Godspeed, Finn Hudson. Go give that order!”

           

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

            “This emergency unofficial meeting of the Warblers has now reached fifteen minutes. Continue.” David stated as Wes’ gavel tapped lightly against the edge of the Starbucks table that the four Warblers were sitting at.

            Jeff was leading the discussion. Wes and David were there with authoritative purpose. Blaine sat quietly, hidden between the two, and frowning towards one corner of the coffee shop.

            “We have to do something, and now! We waited long enough before Blaine tried to get his attention. I tried to get his attention too, and now some football player’s got your man, Blaine!” Jeff shook Blaine’s shoulder, and Blaine looked down at his medium drip miserably.

            Wes looked across the coffee shop and then hummed in agreement. “They _do_ seem fairly close.”

            Jeff was indignant. “Fairly? They just clasped hands passionately! Kurt’s laughing at everything the big guy is saying! Look, now he’s laughing at what Kurt is saying! Kurt’s a great guy to catch and Blaine might be too late!”

            Blaine fiddled with the rim of his cup as Jeff started plotting ways to break the two boys up. He thought he had a chance with the boy, Kurt, when he saw him for the first time during Christmas shopping. His older brother Cooper had come home for the holidays and demanded Blaine take him out, and if Cooper hadn’t been there with him at Gap, he would have made a move.

            Unfortunately, he didn’t get a chance then, but Blaine wasn’t going to be creepy about it when he did. Sure, he knew Kurt’s name and where he worked and a little bit (read as: _a lot_ ) about his schedule because of Jeff. But it wasn’t creepy because all of the Warblers said it was cute (except for maybe Sebastian, but no one really cared for his opinion anyways) that Blaine spent an absurd amount of time in the Starbucks, sighing from behind his coffee cup as the tall, cute boy ordered a grande nonfat mocha and a small drip.

            That fateful Saturday when he and the Warblers not-so-sneakily stood in line behind Kurt and they all heard him order a medium drip, Blaine could _feel_ his heart lurch and a ridiculous grin break out on his face. He stood there with a stupid smile on his face for the longest time because wow, Kurt was ordering his coffee for him, that’s what Jeff’s not-so-subtle but still incoherent yelling had implied.

            The betting money was just starting to be exchanged when Jeff came to the group, looking agitated and muttering that it was a false alarm and the medium drip wasn’t for Blaine.

            He tried not to think about how emotionally fragile he had become because of this crush, or his failure to take action on it. Well, except for a few days ago when he tried, and failed miserably, because that girl, Rachel, had been on Kurt like a leech. He didn’t get a word in edgewise because he wasn’t really sure how to handle such a talkative person with proper manners when all he wanted to do was ask Kurt to maybe get coffee with him and would he maybe like roses to be involved, because Blaine wanted romance but he didn’t know how to give it or get it.

            Blaine glumly looked under the table at his sailboat socks. “He makes me want to sing.” He mumbled.

            Jeff stopped midsentence and eyed him in disbelief. “What?”

            David, who had been quietly keeping the minutes of the meeting, looked thoughtful. “That’s not _too_ bad an idea.”

            Wes shrugged. “The only thing that can get hurt is Blaine’s pride.”

            Jeff guffawed. “Blaine lost that when he used my little sister as an excuse to follow Kurt to Claire’s.”

            Blaine blushed. “Hey, no. I didn’t follow them. Lizzie wanted some new hair bands.”

            “Right, you got lucky.” Wes rolled his gavel in his hands. “Anyways, continue with that idea. Would you sing _to_ him?”

            Blaine covered his face with his hands. “I didn’t actually… do you think I could?”

            David tapped his pencil against the table. “You’re our lead soloist. Your talent isn’t in question.”

            “His nerves are.” Wes nodded towards Kurt and his boyfriend. “You need to top that.”

            Blaine rested a cheek against a hand, watching Kurt’s eyes narrow as he smirked about something. His chestnut hair was pushed up roughly, and his cheeks pink. He should be a Gap model, Blaine thought. “His boyfriend is really tall, though.”

            “But he walks like a giraffe, so get on your munchkin feet and shake your hips, man!” Jeff shimmied his shoulders. “Be sexy!”

            “I don’t think I’ll be sexy enough, though.” Blaine rolled his neck as he straightened up to touch his gelled hair to make sure it was in place.

            “What are you suggesting?” David asked.

            The idea was forming concretely in his mind now. Blaine caught Jeff’s encouraging look and said with tentative excitement, “I guess, maybe… well, officially, I request the service of the Warblers in serenading Kurt. Yeah?” Jeff nodded.

            “We’ve never done that before.” Wes said sharply.

            David nodded in agreement. “True, but Warblers never turn down something to put on our resumes.”

            “I sang at theme parks for mine!” Blaine chimed in.

            “Think sexy songs, Blaine.” Jeff reminded.

            Blaine nodded quickly, eyes trailing Kurt as he stood and pulled on a dark woolen coat to leave. “But romantic, too.”

            David pulled out his Blackberry and clucked in approval. “Lucky for you, we can manage romantic pretty easily. We’re free on Valentine’s Day.”

            “That gives us plenty of time to prepare!” Jeff exclaimed.

            Wes nodded reluctantly. “Alright. But extra practices for the next few weeks until we perform.”

            “No problem.” Blaine sighed as he watched Kurt and his boyfriend leave Starbucks. “Let’s do this.”

           

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

            Kurt spent the next couple of weeks doing damage control. Finn had survived three Lima Bean coffee dates before he tripped over his words and ordered biscuits instead of biscotti. Even Kurt was hit with the backlash— Rachel stormed in on him at work and demanded to know why Finn kept trying to order fat mochas.

            “It’s like he has post-traumatic stress disorder or something!”

            Kurt explained to her that Finn was trying really hard to drink coffee for her benefit, and that maybe she should lay off the coffee dates until Kurt could get the basics drilled into Finn without having a pressure limit to be wary of.

            “Okay. But I _need_ him to be ready by Valentine’s Day.”

            Kurt rolled his eyes. “Yes ma’am. Now let me get back to work.”

            “Yes sir.” Rachel said meekly and flounced away. Ashley then decided to buzz in to congratulate him on getting her out of the store, and asking why they were even friends. Kurt just laughed and went back to work.

            Since then, Kurt took Finn on many, many more coffee runs. After one week, Finn decided it would be smart to start improvising to keep it fresh, so he ordered a large drip and then spent the afternoon groaning as he tried to finish the drink. At one point he started to heave wetly and Kurt actually ran out of the Starbucks. He was _not_ going to get Finn-vomit on his newest polo from Ga— ugh.

            After ten minutes Finn waved a hand in the air weakly and Kurt came back inside. He felt bad enough to rub Finn on the back because the boy had his head down on the table.

            “I still have a third of the cup to go.” He groaned.

            Kurt shrugged. “Like I said, stick to what you know.”

            “I’ll never do that again.”

            “Good.”

            By the time Valentine’s Day came, Finn knew what drink he liked (medium drip, forever and always, though _liking_ was pushing it) and what drinks Rachel liked, cold _and_ warm, as well as what extras, such as biscotti, to buy.

            “Don’t ever buy the brownies.” Kurt told him once while they were waiting in line. Finn’s eyes were watching the barista put the brownies in the counter display with clear yearning.

            “But why?” Finn whined.

            Kurt shook his head. “Rachel will want to put her mouth on the brownies, and not you.”

            “Oh my God, Kurt.” Finn looked uncomfortable.

            “You know what I mean.” His brow furrowed.

            That day during glee club, Kurt allowed himself a small smile as Finn proposed that he and Rachel go to the Lima Bean after glee was over. He accepted Finn’s patting him on the back, and Rachel mouthing _thank you_ with a great degree of satisfaction.

            Then, when he was about to leave for the mall, Karofsky met him at his car. Kurt saw that he was holding a stuffed red Valentine’s bear and smiled back nervously, though all inquiries were quelled when Karofsky started to speak.  

            “I met a guy at Scandals! His name is Sebastian!” His face looked a lot younger when he smiled like that, and Kurt decided he liked it.

He breathed deeply through his nose and made a noise of approval. “I’m glad you got your fireworks, Dave.”

            “You’ll get yours too.” Dave knew not to hug Kurt, so instead he just nodded as Kurt got in his car and drove away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

            “That’s him, that’s Kurt.” Blaine whispered to the cluster of Warblers behind him.  “The brunette packing up the denim.”

            “Ugh, that’s the gayest outfit I’ve ever seen.” Sebastian remarked.

            Blaine sighed dreamily. “It’s Gap. If we got married, Gap would give me a fifty percent discount.”

            Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Can we hurry this up, please? I have a date to attend.”

            That threw Blaine off. “I don’t… I don’t think I’m ready. This is kind of insane, right? I mean, I’ve never even really talked to him, and I— he has a boyfriend, though Jeff said it may be his broth—”

            “Oh my God, Anderson. You put us through four extra Warbler practices. You’re doing this.” Sebastian slapped him on the back with a growl. “Man up and get on with your Gap Attack.”  
            Jeff rubbed one of his shoulders. “He’s right. Just do your thing, you’re amazing.”

            David joined in with a “He’ll love you!”

            Blaine gulped in some air and nodded, steeling himself as he walked into the middle of the store floor and nodded to the side for the chorus of boys to start singing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

            Kurt was elated and filled with determination, but he still had to grit his teeth as he started packing up the denim display into boxes. At least it was finally _going_. It didn’t sell as spectacularly as Ashley had hoped, and Kurt had been one of the first to tell her “I told you so!” The coarse fabric still gave him a headache, though, so when he first heard the gathered humming of male voices going _vum vum vum vummmm_ he figured it was earpiece feedback from Ashley’s sullen spell.

            But when he turned around and saw a short, handsome boy strutting towards him, he realized that wasn’t the case, not at all.

 

_Ohhhhh, baby girl, where you at?_

_Got no strings, got men attached._

_Can’t stop that feelin’ for long, no._

 

           Kurt felt the display counter digging into the small of his back as the boy neared, eyes twinkling as he sang in a smooth, sultry tenor. He was wearing a tacky uniform that looked a lot like Jeff’s… who was bopping his head to another boy’s beatboxing a few feet away. He didn’t know what the hell was happening because he was too overwhelmed by the boy in front of him licking his lips and gesturing to Kurt’s whole body with the next lines of the song.

 

_Mmmm, you makin’ dogs wanna beg,_

_Breakin’ them off your fancy legs,_

_But they make you feel right at hooome now._

 

           Then he held out his arms to Kurt before pulling them back into his chest, giving Kurt puppy dog eyes and seriously, _what was going on_?

 

_Ohhh, see all these illusions just take us too long,_

_And I want it baaaaad…_

 

           Kurt pushed himself away from the denim and strode towards the register, hoping that Ashley would know what was happening because things like this just didn’t happen at Gap. “Hey, Ashley!” He hissed when he got there.

 

_Because you walk pretty, because you talk pretty,_

_‘Cause you make me sick, and I’m not leavin’ till you’re leavin’!_

The boy moved around the store like he owned it, brushing past customers with a scrunched up look on his face before heading to the sunglasses rack and putting on a pair of neon pink shades.

_Oh, I swear there’s something when she’s pumpin, askin’ for a raise._

_Well does she want me to carry her home, now?_

_So does she want me to buy her thing?_

 

           Kurt sucked in a breath and turned back around to face the performance as Ashley, who was helpless in reply, let out an uncharacteristic squeal. The boy had pushed the glasses down the bridge of his nose and was eyeing Kurt with a look that made him shiver.

 

_On my house, on my job,_

_On my loot, shoes, my shirt, my crew, my mind,_

_My father’s last name?_

 

           Kurt leaned back as the boy moved closer, his face looking strained but passionate as he sang the chorus of the song. His eyes darted to Jeff, who was on one side of the boy and grinning and singing and pointed at Kurt. Kurt wanted to glare, but this was really happening. In _Gap,_ for crying out loud!

 

_When I get you alone,_

_When I get you you’ll know, babe_

_When I get you alone,_

_When I get you alone!_

 

           Suddenly, the uniformed boys pulled away, but Kurt couldn’t move. His legs were too weak.  

 

_Oh, come on,_

_Yeah, yeah!_

 

           The dark-haired boy jumped up onto the denim display.

 

_Baby girl, you da shh…_

_That makes you my equivalent..._

           Kurt stared in disbelief, entirely unprepared for the next lines of the song.

 

_Well you can keep your toys in the drawer tonight, alright._

_All my dawgs talkin’ fast,_

_‘Ain’t you got some photographs?’_

 

           Blushing, Kurt finally took the chance to move towards the women’s section as the boy jumped off the display and sauntered towards him, flanked by boys on either side.

 

_‘Cause you shook that room like a star, now,_

_Yes you did, yes you did!_

_All these intrusions just take us too long,_

_And I want you sooo bad…_

_Because you walk city, because you talk city,_

_‘Cause you make me sick, and I’m not leavin’, till you’re leavin’!_

           The boy clasped his hands together and gave Kurt a look so desperate that yes, now he was sure, he was beet red and far gone with this boy, who then smoothed down the lapels of his blazer.

 

_So I pray to something she ain’t bluffin’, rubbin’ up on me!_

_Well does she want me to make a vow?_

_Check it, well does she want me to make it now?_  
           

           All of the other boys were jumping and skidding everywhere, so Kurt sought refuge in the only place where no singing, dancing boy was— behind the front counter.

           “I’ll take the register!” He stuttered as he pulled up short and took a deep breath. He never thought he would say those words, but when he was going to repeat them to get Ashley to move, they died on his lips.

 

_On my house, on my job,_

_On my loot, shoes, my voice, my crew, my mind,_

_My father’s last name?_

 

           The boy jumped up onto a long table in front of the register counter, lined with boys moving in time to their music, and sang the final lines with verve that Kurt couldn’t even fathom.

 

_When I get you alone,_

_When I get you you’ll know, babe,_

_When I get you alone,_

_When I get you alone!_

            The boy jumped down and moved past the socks rack, fell to his knees in front of the register, and then rose back up to meet him at the counter.

 

_Ooohhh…_

_When I get you alone!_

 

           He pressed a pair of socks to the counter, face flushed red and eyes shining brightly, but entirely self-satisfied. Kurt gulped when he found himself looking into gorgeous hazel-green eyes. “Hi.” The boy said in a soft speaking voice that sounded a bit… nervous. “My name’s Blaine.”

           Kurt closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then looked down at the [pair of socks](http://www3.assets-gap.com/webcontent/0006/287/481/cn6287481.jpg) in front of him. He couldn’t help but let out a little choked laugh. “I see your taste in socks hasn’t changed.” The boy across from him— _Blaine_ _—_ blushed and ducked his head as Kurt grinned a little bit too much as he rang him up. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
